The October Editor's Pick Poet is Dennis Bagwell

Please feel free to email Dennis at: firedennis@aol.com

JASON'S LAMENT

Now you listen to me Rita!
I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but as my agent, you owe me this
I know George Clooney is being considered for this role, but I have given the best thirty years of my life to this industry and it owes me too
You say fans expect me in certain roles and they don’t want to see me in a chick flick but I want this romantic comedy
What have I been doing for the last twenty years but making comedies, Rita?
Jason in space? Do I look like a Goddamn astronaut to you?
Freddy would never say this to your face, but he was just as disappointed with Freddy vs. Jason as I was
You said it would be the ultimate slasher bromance. It stunk, Rita!
What’s next? Abbott and Costello meet Jason?
I appreciate the fans, but let’s not forget it’s the fans that have type-cast me
Every time the screenwriters kill me off, I think, “Great! Now maybe I can try something on Broadway”
Maybe DJ in some clubs for fun
Then you negotiate a higher salary for the next piece of crap slasher, making it difficult to say no
Well this time I’m putting my machete down!
Can’t you even get me spot on Dancing with the Stars?
I mean, have you seen some of the celebrity hacks they get on there?
Not even a guest spot on Law and Order?
It’s time to expand my resume to include some more high profile roles; how about a musical? Have you ever heard me sing?

You know, I took this part when I was young and I had only been in Hollywood a few weeks.
I needed the money and I was excited about being in a “Big Hollywood Production”
If I had known I would be wearing a hockey mask for the next thirty years, I would have passed on it, Rita!
I have a daughter who is older than the kids I kill in these movies!
Half the time I can’t even find my hockey mask because my son borrows it to play hockey!
Kevin Bacon was in the first movie and he’s gone on to a pretty lucrative career
When does Jason Voorhees get his moment in the sun?
I had lunch with Michael Myers at Spago last week and I poured my heart out to him like I am to you now
You know what he said Rita?
Absolutely nothing! His silence spoke volumes and we share the same pain
I wouldn’t be surprised if he moves back to Haddonfield
Leatherface already went back to his ranch in Texas. Freddy is working with kids
I can’t wait for the day when I can wash the blood from this crummy, unforgiving town and retire to Camp Crystal Lake
I mean, I’m in great shape, but how much longer am I supposed to still be young enough to hurl an axe with robotic precision across a room?
I’ll be fifty years old next month, for Christ’s sakes!
You can’t possibly have any idea how hard it is for an angry, hockey mask wearing, machete wielding, psychotic, serial killer to pretend he’s an actor portraying an angry, hockey mask wearing, machete wielding, psychotic, serial killer
I’ve learned to manage a lot of my anger, but I can only take so much of this crap before the bodies start piling up
My therapist says this lifestyle isn’t conducive for my mental well being

Rita, how can you just lay there and say nothing?
Don’t look at me with those glazed-over eyes!
Dammit Rita, say something!!!

BUGS

for Diana

Bugs in the vents
Bugs in the drain
Bugs in my bed
Driving me insane

Bugs in the closets
Bugs in the kitchen
Eating my food
Without my permission

Bugs in the phone
Bugs in the halls
In the kids room
Behind their dolls

Bugs in the bathroom
Bugs in the garage
Following me around
Like a creepy entourage

Invading my home
Like unwanted guests
Hiding in the corners
Like filthy little pests

I hear them in the walls
Buzzing in their nest
While I lay in my bed
There is no quiet rest

Laying in the dark
Sweating with fear
Perhaps while I’m sleeping
They’ll nest in my ear

Or drag me away
To their burgeoning hive
Becoming their feast
While I’m still alive

My home is now seething
With bugs in every space
I’ll grab a few things
Then I’ll leave this place

I think I hear them laughing
Their torture goes undaunted
A home without people
Is all they really wanted

PRAYING FOR THE DAWN

The sun is almost down, the fog rolling in
The moon will rise and mock me from the safety of its celestial perch
The creatures of the night will screech, scream and hoot their ugly nocturnal symphonies
The vampires will awaken from their earthly graves
The undead will shuffle from the woods behind my house
The werewolves will howl to signal the beginning of the night’s festivities
The hounds of Hell will sniff around my porch and mark their territory
I will be waiting quietly in the dark
Waiting for some or all of them to get into my house
Praying I live to see another day
Praying for the dawn

Dennis is a thirty-something, politically incorrect, mad at the world, X Generation, heathen, musician, poet and writer from suburban Orange County California. Dennis moved to North Georgia in 2007 and is quietly preparing for the inevitable zombie apocalypse. He has been writing in one form or another since high school. His warped rantings and observations about the cesspool of a world we are surviving in keeps his spiraling descent into madness at bay. Dennis has had his poetry published by the League of American Poets, The American Poets Society, The Horror Zine, 63Channels, Black Petals, Death Head Grin, and Word Salad Poetry Magazine. He has released two spoken-word CD's, A Random Litter of Thought (2006) and Paid in Full (2007) on Batteryface Records. A short film of Dennis’ poem Hollywood was made available to coincide with the release of Paid in Full.  Visit Dennis HERE for audio and video.

Learn more about Dennis HERE.